Irresistable
by Violet Haired Faerie
Summary: He transformed. He wasn't who she knew anymore but she still couldn't help herself. RYPAY TWINCEST Please R
1. Sharpay

_Sharpay_

When he pushed me against his door, I felt his lips piercing through my skin. He kissed the spot that made me go crazy, but only when he was the one to do it. His touch was electric. As I felt myself sliding upwards against his door, courtesy of his strong arms around my waist, I wrapped my legs around his body. But it was so wrong and it wasn't because of the combination of our family ties with our sexual relationship.

I couldn't help myself when he was anywhere near me. He was too much for me to handle and I could never stop myself from thinking of him, especially late at night. However much I tried to distract myself, I could never prevent my legs from carrying me across the hall to his bedroom at one o'clock in the morning.

Anyone who may read this would probably be thinking they were reading something about a forbidden romance. That I couldn't help myself from giving into my desires for him because we were madly in love with each other. But whoever would think that would be wrong. It wasn't love. He never told me I was beautiful. He never said he would love me forever. He never said he loved me _at all_. He used to, when we were younger, but as we grew older and our passions grew for one another, he stopped telling me he loved me. He never felt any romantic adoration for me on the inside, but merely a brotherly love. He found me attractive and he wanted my body to be his but he never wanted any emotional attachment besides a sibling friendship.

Up until the end of sophomore year, he was my brother, my best friend and my 'friend with benefits', if you could call it that. But by junior year, everything changed. We came back to school and he wasn't the same boy who would follow me around all day and do whatever I asked. Everything was different about him. His attitude was bold and defiant. He even dressed differently. Never again did I see a flamboyant shirt on his, now more muscular, chest or one of his, previously described as signature, hats perched on his head. He even started wearing jeans on a regular basis which was uncommon for him, the boy who wore matching dress pants and a shirt every day to school.

After his change in appearance, he suddenly acquired a lot more female attention. And he liked it. He would flirt shamelessly with several girls at a time. He would date one for a weekend and by Monday she would be history and he would blatantly throw himself at someone else. It happened repeatedly. Once again he would bring a girl home and take her up to his room. She would, nine times out of ten, spend the night and leave in the morning looking rather satisfied. Then around six hours later she would be sobbing on the other end of the phone to me because Ryan refused to dump her himself. He would tell me to say he was 'kind of a loner' or 'not looking for anything steady' or some other transparent excuse. Any girl with half a brain would be able to tell what a playboy he really was which was why he generally went for the most stupid girls in school, a fair amount of them being cheerleaders. Occasionally he went for a girl with some sense of intellect and he would see through a short relationship with her, but only because she wouldn't put out on the first date.

As much as it pained me to admit it out loud, my brother had turned into the bad boy that so many girls found attractive because of the excitement. But I felt the rush and danger before he turned into a 17 year old Hugh Hefner. I should have broken it off with him a long time ago but after the five years of passion we've had since our first sexual encounter on our sixteenth birthday, I'm still addicted. Five years ago, I never thought I would say this, but I was in love. I _am _in love. But it's wrong. He's wrong for me. I promised myself I would never get sucked into someone like him. I'd seen it happen and I swore I would never live it. I would never let myself fall for a bad boy. But gravity can be a bitch. I can't help but still love him, even after his drastic transformation. I know I shouldn't but bad boys can pull you in like a black hole. And he hasn't grown out of the 'phase' like Mom said he would. He's still bad to the bone.

_**And voila. I am done. Inspired by the song 'Bad to the Bone' by George Thorogood. So obviously that last sentence had to be written. Hopefully this whole thing made sense. Might be a bit messy and unorganized.**_

_**This is a two shot by the way and I do have the second part almost finished but it will only be revealed if I get some reviews. So if you liked it, tell me. If you didn't, tell me why and I'll try to make it better. If you have some constructive criticism to give, do tell because I'd rather be told if you don't like something than not be told anything. So reviews would be very much appreciated. If you want to find out what Ryan will say in **_**his **_**diary entry then you need to tell me. **_

_**Das ist all. Peace out! **_

_**lovin-lucas-grabeel**_

_**xxx**_


	2. Ryan

**_Okay, so here's the second and final part of this two-shot. Although my review count is slightly sad and pathetic. _ONE_ review? About 30 somthing hits on the page but only 1 person could be bothered to leave a short comment. (thank you, AdrienneMichelleHudgens!) Please, guys, try to take 20 seconds to leave a review. Would really appreciate it. And if you review my story I'll try and read and review yours. (if I understand the category that is. I mean, if its a TV show I've never seen in my life, then what's the point?) OK RANT OVER. Now here we go. Read on and please review once you're done. Please?? (gives puppy dog eyes) (gives paw) :P_**

_Ryan_

Guilt. It's a commonly experienced emotion for me. I felt it every time she snuck into my room and climbed into bed with me. Every kiss we shared was a heavenly indulgence that would send me to hell. I let it happen too much.

I never said I loved her, however much I wanted to. No one knows how much I want to be able to tell her that I'll love her forever and how amazingly beautiful I think she is, inside as well as out. I wish I could hold her at night without feeling a sense of remorse because I know that the next morning, I won't say a word to her. I want to be able to openly tell people that she is the love of my life. But how can I when I can't even tell her?

My feeble attempts at stopping the relationship in order to relieve my guilt only resulted in more personal shame. I've always know that it can't go on forever. I've always tried to end it but my half-hearted attempts were useless and I knew it. When junior year began, I had built a new person for the outside world to view in the hopes that Sharpay would buy it and want to end things herself. I slept with girl after girl and dumped them the next day. I turned into someone I despise. But at the same time, despite feeling guilty, I couldn't help but enjoy the female attention because Sharpay was the only person who ever showed any romantic interest in me. I knew that they only took interest because of my appearance and new-found cocky attitude and didn't really know who I was but I still liked the fact that I was getting noticed. As time went on everyone around me realised that I had turned into a modern day Casanova.

Including Sharpay. But even then, she still refused to end our relationship and I couldn't bring myself to do it either. Every time I looked at her, I thought about how much I truly loved her and how much it would hurt her if I ended our long-term affair. I knew that would hurt her even more than her jealousy. She hid it well to outside parties but I saw right through her act. To me, she was never that good an actress. I could tell that she went insane with resentment every time I brought a girl over. She always lied when asked if it bothered her, so much that I think she even started to believe it herself.

It was exciting at first because it was so new and different but as time went on I started to feel guilty about playing Romeo. I made girls fall for me, took advantage of them and threw them away. They all knew who I was after I had done it enough but they still kept coming. They couldn't seem to stop themselves and I had no idea why I had that effect on people. I still have no clue why women always seem so eager to sleep with me. I have never understood why I am so appealing to gorgeous women. Even Sharpay's feelings confuse me. Every woman I have ever slept with has been very attractive and instead of going for some pretty boy for a one night stand or a respectable man for what they hope to be a steady relationship, they pick me. Four years after I changed my image completely and it still attracts women. And I still let it. I let them flirt with me and I flirt back. I could easily say that I'm seeing someone, which I technically am, but I choose not to. I find this difficult to admit, but I like the power. I enjoy having the control over what happens in the relationship and if there will even be one, and there never is.

Sharpay still sneaks into my room at night. We live in separate apartments about a 10 or 15 minute drive away from each other but she will still come over and slip into bed with me at one in the morning. That's why when I meet a woman I always go back to _her_ apartment. I'll come home in the wee hours of the morning after that happens and find her asleep in my bed and I feel the guilt again. It eats me up inside. And it makes me sick that I keep doing it. I'm doing it to Sharpay, I'm doing it to the many girls that I've slept with and I'm doing it to myself. It disgusts me that I enjoy it. As bad as I feel afterwards, I still can't stop myself from doing it because of how it feels during the act. I hate what I've turned into but I can't deny it. I have to admit that I'm bad to the bone, whether I like it or not.


End file.
